Sam's Best Friend
by LaedieDuske
Summary: The Winchesters find themselves in a rather unusual predicament and it's up to Sam to figure out how to fix it, if he can. A birthday present for my sweet friend Dizzo.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story started with every intention of writing a short one-shot. I am eventually going to have to just accept I am utterly incapable of writing "short" unless it's a drabble. I've been working on it as a birthday present for Dizzo, but after seeing Ness's birthday request this week it looks like it could just as easily be for her too. I hope at least one of you likes it! **

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If you weren't looking for it you'd never notice it. Dean wasn't looking for it, but he noticed it.

Because he's damn good at what he does.

Gathering the papers together he got up off the bed and dropped them on the laptop in front of Sam. "What do you think, Sammy?"

Instead of asking the obvious _"about what Dean?"_, Sam picked up the papers and started shuffling through as Dean headed for the little kitchenette to refill his coffee.

Sipping from the now-steaming cup, Dean sat down across from Sam. "Eight people gone missing in the last few years," he said before taking another swallow.

"Yeah, and they're blaming some local legend of a bogeyman?" Sam replied.

Dean nodded. "No sign has ever been found of any of them. Sounds like it could be our kinda thing."

Sam closed his laptop and slid it, along with the papers, into his bag. "Alright, lemme catch a quick shower and we're outta here."

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Ten hours (and a couple hours of sleep apiece) later, they found themselves in the middle of Backwoods, Nowhere. After a few interviews and a respectable bit of legwork, they found their trail leading out to a rundown junkyard on the outskirts of civilization, owned by an equally rundown "town crazy". They were warned to watch out for the vicious dogs the owner had on the property "to guard his shit that nobody wants anyway".

Under cover of dark, they split up to search the property. There were security lights scattered about, but they were fairly certain they could manage it without being seen. They agreed to meet at the gutted husk of a 1984 Camaro on the far side of the lot in fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam was there. Dean was not.

Twenty minutes later, Sam was starting to get worried.

Twenty five minutes later, Sam decided he needed to go find his brother. When he rounded the back of the car, though, he found himself practically muzzle to kneecap with a light-coloured pit bull. Sam froze in his tracks, hands up, palms out.

"Uh...hey there puppy. You're a good doggy aren't you? You don't want to bite me do ya? I like doggies." He realized he was babbling and shut his mouth with a mental kick. There was enough light that he could see the dog blink up at him. It looked unsteady on its feet, Sam thought he probably stood a chance of getting away from it. He started backing away slowly.

With a low whine, the dog wobbled forward toward him. When it moved, Sam could see a darker spot on its fur behind its right ear.

"What's the matter buddy? Are you hurt?" Sam slowly crouched down, muscles coiled and ready to spring back up at the first sign of a threat. He fished a flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on. The dog blinked unfocused green eyes against the sudden brightness. With another whine, it lowered itself to the ground at Sam's feet.

Sam could now see the dark spot was blood, a nasty gash on the dog's head bled freely onto the ground. He could also see something around the dog's neck and wondered why the supposedly crazy guy with the supposedly vicious dogs would have any kind of identification hanging around their necks.

Carefully he pulled at the object around the dog's neck, turning it until he could see what was hanging from it. For several seconds Sam's brain refused to process what he was seeing in his hand, and then the world seemed to slide sideways.

It was Dean's amulet.

"Oh Dean. What did you do?" he murmured.

Sam thought he should check for concussion. He wasn't sure if it worked the same for animals as it did for people, but he figured it couldn't hurt to try. Angling the light so it was not directly in the dog's...Dean's...eyes, Sam carefully lifted each eyelid.

He could not see any difference in the pupils, but he was concerned by the complete lack of reaction from his now-furry brother.

Lifting the muscular form carefully, Sam started to make his way back to the Impala. He was almost there when he heard a vicious dog fight break out in a nearby cluster of junk. After depositing the unconscious pit bull Dean in the front seat of the Impala cocooned in a blanket, Sam went to investigate.

Creeping around the edge of a tall pile of metal, Sam saw at least half a dozen dogs ranged in a semi-circle around what looked to be the bloody remains of another dog.

Sam froze for a moment, unsure whether the dogs would attack him as well. From one instant to the next, the gory bits of the dog on the ground started to change. Fur vanished and what was left behind matched the description of the junkyard owner. He could not see any signs of an animal pelt on the corpse from where he was standing, so not a skinwalker.

A spell?

And if he changed Dean and then himself, was it possible...

Sam looked at the six dogs sitting on the far side of the body, looking at him expectantly.

He felt silly doing it, but he was not sure how much of their human consciousness was still in there if it was them, so he spoke. "Hey, uh, I don't know if you guys are the missing people - "

A Doberman whined pitifully at him.

"Okay," he nodded, still not quite sure how to proceed with the unusual situation. "Look, I am here to help. He changed my brother too. I can't take you all back to the motel with me. Hell, I don't even know if you can understand me - " a whine from the Rottweiler, "but if you can, then please just stay here and stay hidden. I will go see if I can find a spell book or something in his shack and call a friend for help if I need to."

A black lab grumbled at him grumpily.

"I promise. I will figure this out and get you back to normal somehow. There were eight who have gone missing, are there more of you?"

The "dogs" all averted their eyes. They might as well have shouted "no".

"Alright. I am going to salt and burn him so we don't end up with a psycho ghost on our hands. You should all find some place to hide out while I figure out how to fix this."

The dogs all melted into the darkness of the nearby wrecks. Sam did his duty with the remains and headed back to the Impala. When he got there, Deandog was awake if still a little wobbly on his feet...paws.

And he was clearly _pissed_.


	2. Chapter 2

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**A/N: I've a bad feeling people are thinking this is going to be crackier than I am capable of. Unfortunately I'm not very good at writing funny. So if something _does_ make you laugh a) it will thrill me because it b) will be completely unplanned. **

**Chapter 2:**

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Sam slid into the driver's seat and was greeted with a guttural growl. He knuckled one of his tired eyes and sighed.

Sam was almost afraid to turn his head and look at the angry pit bull. Looking into those green eyes, though, he _knew_ Dean was in there.

"Dean?" The dog responded with a grumbling rumble. "I found most of the others. I think it's a spell, but - " he hesitated, knowing Dean would freak when he said it. Sam braced himself and blurted it out, "They killed the junkyard owner."

Dean yelped and Sam could almost hear his brother's horrified _What the hell?_ in his head.

"I know, but he had changed himself, too, so it has to be some kind of spell. I'm going to go up and check out his shack, see if I can find a spell-book or something." Dean rumbled at him again. "You are staying in the car."

Dean growled, low and dangerous, and Sam's primal instincts kicked in. Eyes wide, he pressed his back against the door, shying away from The Thing With Teeth. Dean whined and nuzzled Sam's hand in apology.

"Damn, man, not even half an hour as a mutt and you could already pass for a real one. I don't care how scary you want to play, you are staying here. You were just out cold and your head is still bleeding. I don't think you have a concussion, but I can't tell for sure and if you get in there and pass out I am _not_ carrying your heavy ass again."

Dean flopped heavily onto the seat, turning sad green eyes up at Sam.

"Now I get why you're always bitching about _my_ puppy dog eyes," Sam groaned, his resolve wavering, "but you're still staying in the car."

Dean grumbled and turned his face away from his brother. Sam felt a stab of guilt, but he knew he was right.

Dean would be safer in the car.

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An hour and a half later, Sam and his new canine companion crept into their motel room unnoticed. Sam had turned the shack inside out and had found nothing helpful.

Dean bee-lined for his bed. Jumping up, he turned three times and flopped down with a sigh. Sam watched from the doorway, smiling. He made a mental note to ask his brother why dogs did that once Dean was human again.

Because he was going to make that happen somehow.

He waited until he was sure Dean had fallen asleep and picked up his phone. If anyone could help, Bobby could.

Bobby took the "Dean is now a dog" news better than Sam anticipated, but was obviously not quite sure what to say for a minute.

"There's more," Sam broke the awkward silence.

"More?" Bobby grated. "Don't tell me he's a _girl_ dog?"

"No, no!" Sam tried not to yell. "I mean there are more dogs who used to be people. And they sort of...killed the guy who changed them all after he turned himself into a dog too."

"Balls. I'll call ya back." -click-

Sam looked over at the bed and saw his brother's four paws start to twitch. A minute later, Dean's legs started to move and then his nose joined the jerky motions. Sam grinned like the Cheshire Cat, years of teasing unfolding in his mind in vivid detail.

Oh Dean was _never_ going to live this one down.

It all vanished like a puff of smoke when Sam heard a whimper and saw the full-body jerk that followed.

Deandog was having a nightmare.

Sam crossed the distance to the bed in two strides. Sitting close, he spoke softly, hoping to comfort his furry brother without startling him. Closer now, he could see Dean was trembling. Sam did the only thing he could think to do: he reached out to pet Dean's head. Dean jerked and let a pained yelp. Sam cringed, realizing he must have touched the wound on Dean's head.

Unsure what else to do, Sam carefully slid the trembling sleeper onto his lap. He was worried that Dean had not woken with all the jostling and accidental wound bumping. The more he thought about it, though, it made sense.

Dean had just been through a hell of an ordeal. The whack on the head was bad enough but then his body had been forced through a fundamental change in...everything. Sam was pretty confident in supposing the initial loss of consciousness at the junkyard was a reaction to the spell.

Now, though - well, now he could easily understand if Dean was just exhausted from the whole thing.

A little over four hours later when Bobby called back, Sam was still sitting on Dean's bed doing research on his phone. Dean was finally sleeping peacefully on his lap so he hadn't wanted to move.

"Hey Bobby," Sam spoke quietly.

"Why you whisperin'?"

"Dean's asleep."

"He dreamin' of chasin' cars? Rumsfeld used to do that. Ended up sliding off the hood of that old truck a time or two," Bobby chuckled.

"Yeah, something like that," Sam answered, not really wanting to go into detail. "Look, I know it's a long shot without the original spell, but did you find anything?"

"I found a few, but there was one that showed up as a reversal for more than one spell. It's as close to a "universal spell undoer" as I could find."

"That's great Bobby! What do I need?"

"He needs to drink the blood of someone he loves - "

"_LOVES?_ Dean hasn't had time to even hook up lately, much less date or fall in _love_!"

"_YOU_ ya idjit! Dean loves _you_!"

"Oh...uh...I thought you meant - "

"Never mind. Are you gonna let me finish?"

Sam managed a meek _sure. _Grabbing the motel stationery he'd been using for research notes, Sam jotted down the short spell and list of things that needed to be added to each sample.

"So," Bobby asked when he'd finished, "any thoughts on how to get samples for the others?"

"I was thinking of using the FBI cover and telling them we need DNA in case we find their loved ones."

"Not bad, boy. Not bad. Just remember they all need to drink at the same time."

Fear burned through Sam as a thought occurred to him. "But they're not all there! Two of them are gone! What if we need them _all_ to reverse it?"

Could Dean really be trapped as a dog forever? How would he react to that? How would _Sam _react to that?

"All you can do is try, Sam. If this doesn't work, we'll keep looking until we find something that does."

Sam took a deep breath. He knew the momentary doubt was just the fear talking - he would never give up until this was fixed. He knew Bobby was in for the long haul too.

Sam said goodbye and hung up, that thought comforting him. He ran his fingers through Dean's shiny fur and worked on putting together a plan while his brother slept.


	3. Chapter 3

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**Chapter 3:**

**Warnings for swearing. Thanks to my sweet beta TMATEOTB for the super fast turnaround!  
**

**A/N: Edited slightly from original posting.  
**

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Sam woke to the sensation of an ice cube being thrust against the small of his back. With a yelp he launched himself off the bed. In the mid-afternoon light, he found himself looking into mournful green eyes over the other edge of the bed.

"Jesus Dean, your nose is _cold_! What the hell was that for?"

Dean's ears were laid flat against his big head, his tail tucked between his legs. His eyes darted around the room before settling on a spot on the floor in front of him.

Sam went from irritated to alarmed in the space of a heartbeat, rolling across the mattress to kneel between the beds beside his furry brother. "What is it? Is it your head?" Sam reached to check the wound behind Dean's ear, but Dean shied away.

"Sorry, I won't touch, is that what's bothering you?" Sam spoke quietly, thinking his brother's head must still be aching.

Dean stood, paced a couple steps away then back to Sam. His eyes met Sam's briefly, then he squeezed them shut and heaved a sigh.

Opening his eyes again, Dean turned and padded over to the door, his paws soundless on the thin carpeting. His rump thumped down on the floor, his head hung so low his muzzle brushed the rug.

"Oh," Sam said softly, unsure for a moment what to say without adding to Dean's level of mortification. Sam could imagine how embarrassed he'd feel if he had to ask his brother to bring him outside to take a leak. "Dean, none of this is your fault. We will get you back to normal, until then we'll just do whatever we need to do. Don't sweat it, okay?"

Dean grumbled irritably and Sam was pretty sure if Dean had been able to voice his thoughts, it would have been enough to peel the plaster. The elder Winchester did not cope well with being dependent on anyone for anything.

Slipping into his jeans, Sam opened the door and made sure the coast was clear before motioning Dean outside. Dean darted around the end of the building to a small patch of grass and Sam followed. Dean snuffled around for a minute before looking up at Sam and laying his ears flat again. They stood staring at each other for a long moment before Dean whined and looked away.

Sam blurted out, "You've got to be kidding me!" and immediately felt guilty when Dean hung his head again. The situation was bad enough without him making his brother feel worse. He turned his back so Dean could "water the lawn" in some semblance of privacy.

Sam decided he'd slept enough for the day. They were hitting the road. Now.

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The next two weeks passed in a blur of back roads, grieving family members and lies. After packing the car and checking out, Sam had first stopped on the way out of town to round up the "dogs" from their hiding places in and around the junkyard. Asking them mostly yes or no questions, Sam identified who they had been and jotted down what he could learn of the relationships they had left behind. Sam already knew none of them were locals. He didn't really want to go through the trouble of tracking down and conning people into giving blood if they weren't loved ones at all.

Estranged family or ex-lovers need not apply, thank you.

Through it all, Dean seemed to grow more and more withdrawn. The wound on his head was healing nicely, but he was sleeping more than Sam thought was probably normal even for a dog.

Once, when Dean was curled up on the front seat dozing after sleeping nearly 14 hours the night before, Sam had poked him. When Deandog lifted his head and looked at him with bleary eyes, he'd said, "Hey man, you're a dog not a cat. You're sleeping an awful lot. Are you feeling okay?"

Dean had stared up at him for a minute and Sam could almost hear Dean saying _I'm a dog, how do you __think I feel?_ Dean sighed and turned his face away from Sam, wrapping a front paw up over his eyes.

Dean would get out of the car for bathroom breaks and when they stopped in a town he would immediately curl up on his bed in whatever motel Sam found for them.

The only time Dean showed any excitement, Sam was sure his brother was trying to give him a heart attack. Sam opened the car door at another roadside pit stop in the middle of nowhere. Dean jumped to the ground and walked three steps before freezing. Nose to the air, he sniffed twice and bolted through the underbrush. Sam caught up to him just as he slid to a stop outside a chain link fence.

On the other side of the fence was a female German Shepherd. She was rubbing along the fence and whining, high pitched and constant.

She was in heat.

Dean stood motionless for a moment, his eyes flared so wide the whites showed all around. He took two stumbling steps backward and bolted back the way they had come. By the time Sam got back to the car, Dean was huddled on the floorboard where he stayed for the rest of the day. Sam had an idea what had just happened, but he made a silent vow to never mention it.

Sam tried a dozen different kinds of dog food - dry and canned. Hell, he even tried cat food and canned meat. No matter what he put down, or how often, Dean was barely picking at it. The cheeseburger he'd brought one night had gone completely untouched. Sam could see the canine body getting thinner as time passed, could see his brother's beautiful coat was losing its shine.

And wow was _that_ a weird thought to have_._

In the car, Sam played the tapes he knew were Dean's favourites, hoping to snap him out of his funk, but nothing seemed to help. They were in the fifth day of their journey when Sam realized he'd hardly spoken to Dean since they'd left the motel. He knew his brother's mind was trapped inside the four-legged form, but it had felt so strange talking to a dog like a human. Sam reminded himself that his brother only _looked_ like a dog.

How must Dean feel? Stuck inside this alien form, not knowing whether he could be changed back? And on top of that, not being able to even talk and keep his mind off his situation.

Not being talked _to_.

Dean always joked and teased - making light of a situation so everyone didn't get overwhelmed by the awfulness around them.

Dean couldn't talk, but that did not mean he couldn't communicate. Sam just needed to pay closer attention.

So Sam started talking. Over the course of the next few days, he talked about whatever came into his head. It seemed to help some, Dean at least stayed awake for longer periods. By the time they headed back toward the junkyard, he'd even managed a few decent meals.

Sam decided to book them into a motel in the next town over as they were passing through. Dawn was breaking and they agreed it would be best to wait until nightfall.

That is: Sam suggested it and Dean yipped a response.

They did not need to even discuss whether or not to stay in the town the junkyard was in, the one they had left two weeks before. Never stay in the same place twice - Hunting 101.

Dean performed his usual ritual - jumping up onto his bed and curling up with his nose covered by his tail. Sam hesitated a moment and then with a mental _screw it_ he settled in on Dean's bed too, his back against the headboard. Dean's green eyes cracked open, staring at his brother.

"So," Sam said, breaking out the research and notes from Bobby, "here's what we're going to do..."

Sam dropped his hand down and massaged his fingertips behind Dean's fuzzy ear as he talked. Dean let out a contented groan and rolled onto his back.

"Forget it, I am _not_ rubbing your belly, man. I have my limits." Dean whimpered pitifully and gazed up at Sam with sad green eyes. Sam sighed. "Goddammit, you owe me for this one." He shifted his hand to rub at Dean's soft belly and tried to ignore the grin he could swear was plastered on his brother's doggy face as he finished outlining the plan.


	4. Chapter 4

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**Chapter 4:**

**A/N: Okay, so not quite done. I thought maybe, but my muse had other ideas apparently. :-)  
**

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Dean had dozed off, but Sam couldn't sleep. He was nervous about the spell.

Sam looked to where Dean was still belly up on the bed beside him. He would never admit it, but he was still the little boy who'd always wanted a dog in some corner of his mind. Sam couldn't resist the allure of the doggy tummy.

He reached out and rubbed gently at the pink belly presented so invitingly and Dean groaned contentedly, but didn't wake.

In that moment it dawned on Sam that the entire time they had been traveling in the car, whether Dean was actually sleeping or pretending to sleep, some part of his body had always been touching Sam. He thought again about those first few days of silence and he remembered a paw on his leg or a shoulder pressed against his hip. Dean had been so subtle about it, Sam had been completely oblivious. Guilt washed over him once more. Sam wished he had realized sooner, but he was grateful he had realized at all.

Now all he had to do was put his brother back to rights and they could leave all of this behind them.

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Sam marveled once again how bizarre their lives were as he grabbed the small cooler full of carefully labeled blood from the trunk. He couldn't remember a stranger situation than the one they were currently in though.

As he closed the trunk, he realized his brother was no longer beside him. Fear jolted through him - would the others hurt Dean if they found him nosing around? A stranger in their territory. Sam flashed to the image of the junkyard owner, torn to pieces on the blood-drenched dirt.

"Dean!" he shouted, looking around the darkened lot for a sign of his brother's light, reddish fur. "_Dean!_"

Green eyes suddenly appeared around the bumper of a ruined Civic off to Sam's left, dragging a sigh of relief from the younger Hunter. Dean cocked his head at Sam.

"Sorry, I couldn't see you and...never mind. Could you stay with me while I get this set up?"

Dean's big head tilted the other way and his eyes narrowed. _Have you lost your mind?_

Sam shook his head. "Look, I just..." He stopped, looking into Dean's eyes, trying to figure out how to put it into words that wouldn't get him teased for the rest of his life. He was coming up empty.

Dean watched the struggle on Sam's face for a moment then, with a soft snort, trotted over to sit at his brother's side. Leaning one muscled shoulder against Sam's leg, Dean tilted his head up and quietly watched his brother work in the bright lamp light.

Sam put each marked vial of blood in its own dollar-store bowl. The blood would go in last to avoid any mishaps.

Sam pulled out the components one at a time and measured each carefully. Some of them could be lethal if the wrong amount was ingested. Others would only make you _wish_ you were dead. But that wasn't what made Sam triple-check each measurement.

Not really.

He knew if he didn't get this just right, there was a chance Dean would never be human again. Dean had survived a lot more in his short life than he probably should have, but Sam wasn't sure he'd survive knowing he was a dog forever. Not completely intact at least.

By the time Sam finished the preparations and had moved the name labels from the vials to the corresponding bowls, he realized his foot was asleep. He looked down to see Dean lying nose-to-tail with his side planted firmly on his brother's foot.

Sam smiled fondly and knelt down on his other knee. He reached one hand to that spot between Dean's furry shoulder blades and gently massaged with his fingertips, speaking softly, "Hey man, it's all ready. Time to rise and shine."

Bleary green eyes blinked up at him for a moment before Dean's face split in a jaw-cracking yawn. Sam got an uncomfortably close view of Dean's gigantic canines. Dean stood, stretched and then started to move off further into the junkyard.

"Whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?" Sam stood, trying to work the feeling back into his foot.

Dean stopped, swinging his muzzle over his shoulder to stare at Sam. _Uh, duh. _

"Why don't we go find them together?" Sam tried. He knew he wasn't being completely rational, but he couldn't seem to help himself.

Dean's eyes flicked to the bowls lined carefully on the Impala's trunk, then back to meet his brother's eyes again. Sam swore he could see Dean's familiar scowl just as clearly on the pit bull's face.

He thought again what might happen if the other dogs took Dean for an intruder, but Dean was right. Someone needed to stay and make sure nothing happened to the mixtures, and Sam could go over the incantation again while Dean was rounding the rest up.

Sam sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. Looking into Dean's expectant eyes he conceded, "Fine, just...be careful, okay?"

Dean woofed softly and trotted off.

Sam whispered _Jerk _and watched until he was out of sight.

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Dean was not gone long, returning with 6 dogs trailing behind. Whether he had hurried because he knew Sam was worried or because he wanted to get it over with, Sam was just glad he had been quick to retrieve the rest.

Sam explained what was about to happen.

Twice.

He could swear some of the dogs were actually rolling their eyes at him but he didn't care. He wanted to make damn sure everyone was on the same page.

One by one, Sam grabbed the bowls, read off the name and set it on the ground for each dog to claim their spot. He recited the final incantation, then counted down from five so they could all drink together.

The timing was perfect. Each dog started and finished at the same time, but...

Nothing happened.

Six dogs sat, staring expectantly at Sam, but not Dean. He was watching the other dogs intently and Sam wondered if his brother knew something he didn't.

What looked like either a small Greyhound or a large Whippet suddenly growled.

"Don't worry, this is only the first try," Sam started, taking a step farther away from the line of frustrated canines. "This was just the broadest spell, we can - "

He was cut off by a pained howl from the Doberman. It was rapidly followed by a chorus of yelps and cries from the others. Sam watched in horror as the transformation violently ripped through them all.

Some corner of his dazed mind thought if the initial transformation was that agonizing, it was no wonder Dean was so out of it afterward. He supposed he should be grateful Dean was apparently unconscious for it that time, but couldn't quite bring himself to feel anything other than anger that his brother had been hurt.

It was over in a matter of moments, but to Sam it felt like 10 years had just been shaved off his life. He stood staring down at the mass of unconscious bodies, his subconscious niggling at him that something didn't look right. It took him another minute to wrap his brain around what it was.

They were all clothed.

Sam kicked himself for not even thinking of the possibility that they could have shifted back nude. What would he have done then? Shaking off the multiple shocks, he went down the line, checking vitals on all of them. The urge to start with Dean and make sure he was okay was nearly irresistible. He wanted to finish with his brother, though, so he could sit with him until he woke.

Sam tried to make them all as comfortable as he could as quickly as possible, straightening limbs that had been twisted in pain during the change and settling everyone on their backs. When he got to Dean, who was curled tightly on his side in a fetal position, Sam slipped his jacket off before kneeling down. Balling it up, he laid it behind Dean's head.

He checked his brother's breathing and pulse, relieved to find both strong and steady if a bit fast. Sliding his palm over Dean's cheek, his long fingers cradled the base of the skull as he carefully turned Dean onto his back. Sam lifted slightly as he turned him, so that Dean's head landed comfortably on the jacket. With another glance down the line of still forms, Sam settled in cross-legged to wait - his hip pressed to Dean's, his hand on his brother's chest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

**A/N: There's an "extra" bellyrub in here thanks to my super-awesome beta, TMATEOTB, who loves you all as much as I do. :-)**

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Dean slowly became aware of the world around him. A rock dug into his left kidney, his left calf was crossed over his right shin, sending both of his feet to sleep. Sam's big hand was warm against his belly and for a moment Dean lay still, appreciating the fact that he was back in his own skin and not wanting to lose that comforting contact with his brother.

He knew as soon as he let on he was awake, the hand would be moved. Dean ached all over and his head was fuzzy as it struggled to adjust to losing the canine-enhanced senses.

He had felt so alone in that other body, completely shut off from his brother, from everything that mattered to him. Sam barely knew how to cope with him on a good day, he had clearly not had a clue how to deal with Dean being transformed into a dog.

Dean had thought about little else in those silent days at the beginning. He felt like a stone around Sam's neck - a burden. If the spell had failed and he couldn't be changed back, there was no way he could have kept on the way they were. The others seemed to remember who they had been, but Dean wondered how long that would have lasted if they had not hung around the junkyard, with all the reminders of what had happened to them.

If Dean had taken off into the woods on one of their stops, if he had removed himself from everything he knew, would he have gone feral, forgotten he ever had another life?

Would he have survived that long in the wild?

But then Sam had started talking to him, about nothing at all really, and Dean knew he could never bring himself to leave his brother with nobody to watch his back. If he had to figure out how to do it in a pit bull body, then he would. He would never be happy that way, but at least he would know Sam was not alone.

Dean was dragged from his thoughts by the realization that Sam was rubbing his stomach the way he had on the bed earlier. He swallowed the sound that rose up in his throat, refusing to acknowledge the almost-whimper. Eyes still closed, Dean wondered if his brother was even aware of what he was doing. Then Sam spoke softly and he knew.

"Dean? Are you okay? How do you feel?"

Dean pried his eyes open, peering at the unconscious bodies lined up on the ground and finally meeting his brother's worried gaze.

"M'alright." His voice was hoarse, cracking from lack of use.

"You're the first one awake." Sam was puzzled, but grateful Dean was finally conscious. He hoped the others followed soon, but was glad for a moment alone with his brother first.

"Last one changed, first one up?" Dean managed, his voice trailing off to barely a whisper.

Sam seemed reluctant to lose contact with Dean, both of them taking comfort in his hand gently rubbing at Dean's stomach but neither willing to admit it. He reached with his free arm and snagged the handle of his duffel, dragging it closer and fishing out a bottle of water. He uncapped it with his teeth and poured some into Dean's mouth. For a moment everything seemed so surreal. As Sam let the water trickle into Dean's open mouth he was struck with the image of a baby bird in the nest waiting for food. He shook his head and the world snapped back into place around him.

Man, he needed sleep.

Dean cleared his throat, took a deep breath and tried to sit up. Sam planted his hand on Dean's chest, effectively pinning him to the ground with alarming ease. "Whoa, where do you think you're going?"

"The sooner we get this all taken care of, the sooner we're back on the road."

"Dean - " Sam broke off, unsure how to put into words what he was thinking. Dean always minimized his own hurts, brushing off any concern. Sam knew that was a defense mechanism deeply ingrained by John, his older brother couldn't overcome the instinct and he really didn't want to trigger that reaction.

He just wanted Dean to take care of himself, or at least not drive himself into the ground. Sam could see the pain and weariness clearly on Dean's pale face.

"I get it, Sammy," Dean said softly, rescuing Sam from his racing thoughts. "I really just want to put this place in the rearview though."

Sam gave a small nod. "Okay, but we can't go anywhere until they're awake anyway, so how about I pack up the gear while we wait and _you_ lay there and keep an eye on them?"

Dean smirked. "That would be great Florence, except there's a boulder digging into my back and your hairy paw on my chest is just driving it in deeper."

Sam jerked his hand away and then thought better of it, dropping it back down lightly on Dean's chest in case he tried to get up again.

"Which side?" Sam asked. Dean just blinked up at him. "_Dean._" One word held a clear warning.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Left kidney. No tickling, Sasquatch."

Sam reached under and fished the rock out as carefully as he could, cringing when Dean winced in pain.

"Better?"

Dean nodded and let his eyes close, giving in to the exhaustion weighing down on him. _Just for a minute _he thought_._ He could feel Sam's eyes on him, knew his brother was worried, but he really needed to regroup. When Sam moved off to clean up, the sudden emptiness at his side reminded him again of the isolation of those first days.

Dean took another deep breath. _ Get a grip, Winchester._ _It's over, everything is back to normal now._

Except that it wasn't.

Sam would want to talk, and Dean wasn't so good at that. He had been through the wringer emotionally and physically, but he knew the stress had taken a toll on Sam too.

He thought maybe, just this once, he could do some talking.

Maybe.

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Two hours later, everyone was awake, aware and debriefed on how to go about keeping themselves out of the loony bin after reuniting with their families. No stories of being transformed into four-legged-furries, if you know what's good for you. It was up to them to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives.

The Winchesters left, staring down the same task themselves. Again.

Dean felt like a weight had dropped off his shoulders when he finally saw the junkyard dwindling out of sight, not in the rearview but the side mirror. He wanted to drive so bad after being relegated to the passenger seat for so long. They wouldn't have made it far that way, his entire body protested every movement. Instead, he settled into the passenger seat, head back and eyes closed.

"So, Dean - "

Dean's stomach clenched. He knew what was coming.

Or he thought he did.

"What's the deal with chasing your ass around the bed with your nose before flopping over to sleep?"

Startled, Dean's eyes popped open wide, staring at Sam for a moment. Sam tried to keep a straight face, but the look on Dean's was just too much. They both started laughing so hard, Sam had to pull the car over until they could get themselves under control again.

They had no idea where they were headed, but it was going to be a good trip.

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_**Fin - thanks for coming along for the ride!**_


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